


Cold Morning

by itsthedetails



Category: Jonas Brothers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-17
Updated: 2010-01-17
Packaged: 2017-10-24 03:57:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/258722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsthedetails/pseuds/itsthedetails
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick's too cold to get out of bed, and takes care of matters with Joe sleeping (or so he thinks)in the next bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Morning

Nick wakes slowly, rising from a dream he can't remember. The hotel room is dark, only sharp breaks of light creeping around the edges of the curtains. The air in the room is icy cold; the air conditioning running like there's a July heat wave outside instead of it being a crisp March morning in the Northeast.

He shifts and stretches, huddling deeper under the warmth of his covers. He should get up, get in the shower, start his day, but they don’t have any commitments until the afternoon and he just can’t drag himself from the cocoon of heat he’s wrapped himself in.

Drifting into a half waking doze, he rouses slightly at the insistent throb of his morning hard on. Almost always he would take care of it in the shower, but the thought of emerging into the cold air is wholly unappealing.

Quickly, he peeks over at Joe’s bed; all he can make out is a mess of dark waves poking from under a lump of covers. His voice barely more than a rough whisper, he calls out to Joe, once, than twice. “Joe, Joe.” The lump doesn’t even stir.

Satisfied that Joe is still sound asleep, he slides his palm over his chest; the heal of his hand teasing his pointed nipple, then continuing downward, until his hand slips into his boxers.

He wraps his fingers around is dick, hard and hot in his hand and starts an easy, lazy stroke. The sheets scritch-scratch against his skin as he burrows deeper down into the mattress. It feels so good, stimulating his bared skin. With his other hand, he shoves his boxers down his legs, so as he fists his dick tighter, every inch of his skin rubs against the humid cotton of the sheets, causing him to moan with arousal.

His left hand presses into the sweaty skin of his thigh, alternately digging fingerprints into the tender skin there and tensing flat. His fist pumps furiously, little grunts and moans that he tries to choke back escaping without warning, until there is a sudden and sharp blast of cool air as his blankets lift and Joe climbs into bed next to him.

He squeaks in surprise and shivers as the cooler air meets the sheen of sweat on his skin. “Joe! What are you doing?”

Even in the dark, he can see the brightness in Joe’s eyes. “Didn’t think he could be over here moaning like that and not make me want to join you.”

Joe’s tucked along his side, his cock a heavy press against his hip.

“Don’t let me stop what you started.”

The first touch of Joe’s finger tips, light on his belly, make him gasp again and hunch in on himself. They’ve done stuff before, but usually late at night when their so wound up on energy that they rub against each through their clothes until they’re both coming in their shorts. This deliberate touching is different. It means something and Nick relaxes into it and lets Joe’s fingers trace the soft flesh of his belly and slip down to twine with his own fingers around his dick.

He whines, “Joe—please.”

But Joe doesn’t give in, with a huff of breath against Nick’s neck he presses his thumb to the wet slit of Nick’s cock. Something in Joe snaps and he moves quickly, shoving his own boxers off and shifting on top of him.

He wants this, God, he wants Joe and he tries to help, move, shift so he can _feel_ Joe, skin to skin. They’re awkward, but it doesn’t matter. Joe’s hovering over him. His sleep-wavy hair, wild around his face—and Nick reaches up sliding his fingers through it to cup the back of his neck and yank him down so their mouths meet.

It’s sloppy and wet, much like their stuttered thrusting, but it’s good. Joe’s tongue slips into his mouth, thick and hot, and he realizes the moaning he’s hearing is coming from him. He jerks his hips faster, his cock riding Joe’s and he blows his wad thick and messy between them.

Joe groans and shakes above him, coming like a freight train. Joe’s elbows quiver and then he all but collapses on top of him. Joe’s heavy and Nick’s sweaty like he’s been on stage all night under the lights, but he doesn’t want to push Joe away.

They both catch their breath and Joe shifts a bit so he’s not crushing Nick. He’s grinning and there’s a glint in his eyes that is never a good sign. “You know, for future reference if you’re gonna beat it in the bed right next to me, it’s only polite to ask me to join you.”

He gives Joe a good shove, as he feels the flare of pink rise on his cheeks. “Like you’ve never jerked off with me in the room.”

Joe flicks at Nick’s side. “Never claimed I hadn’t, but just so we’re clear when I do it I’m hoping you’ll come join me.”

He didn’t know that Joe wanted him like this, but now that he did—

He flips the blanket back, scratching at the drying come on his belly. He gets up from the bed, and stands naked in the middle of the room. “I’m going to take a shower.” Gesturing at his middle, he says. “This is gross.” He starts to walk toward the bathroom, leaving Joe staring after him. Almost at the bathroom door he stops and looks back at Joe. “Since it’s the polite thing to do, I just want to let you know after I wash up, I’m probably gonna jerk off. If, you know, you want to join me.”

He heads straight into the bathroom, a smirk on his face when he hears Joe struggle out of the tangle of blankets to follow him.


End file.
